


Joy is a Bird

by QueerCanary (queercanary)



Category: The Masquerade Series - Seth Dickinson
Genre: Alternate Ending, F/F, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Misogyny (mentioned/implied), they're just happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-20 19:07:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30009570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queercanary/pseuds/QueerCanary
Summary: The battle is over, and now its time for Baru to take something for herself. Love seems like as good a place to start.(Alternate end to the first book!)
Relationships: Baru Cormorant/Tain Hu
Kudos: 6





	Joy is a Bird

**Author's Note:**

> As I am writing this I have literally just finished the book and I am so very very angry and upset and sad that I’m rewriting the end to suit my deepest desires. (It might be ooc but listen... Tain Hu didn’t deserve any of that Im so upset let me have this). (I wrote this a while ago, just haven't posted it as a btw)
> 
> Also, just a style note, its a pet peeve of mine when someone uses a full name or title every single time a person is mentioned so I just go with first names here. Also, generally what passages I use from the book I use roughly, mostly paraphrasing to fit my own writing style.
> 
> Lightly smutty, but we stop just short of like... explicit sex so. Mature Themes though.
> 
> (Title just based on a poem with the same title. Thought it was cute)

_I had dared to hope._

The words made Baru’s heart accelerate almost painfully in her chest. Hu had _hoped_ for this, hoped that Baru cared for her, hoped that Baru would admit to caring about her. Perhaps Hu had even known; but how long? Had she known what Baru was going to say in the forest? Had she known before Baru herself would admit it? Sometime in those long winter months?

Most importantly, the words confirmed what Baru had oftentimes doubted: that Tain Hu reciprocated her feelings.

She relished in the warmth of the beautiful, powerful woman pressed into her side, trying to school her face while they stood before the others, her stomach doing flips. She hoped Hu was doing the same next to her, although she couldn’t check.

The council seemed to take the news fairly well, given the circumstances. Still, she would have to be sure to watch their backs for knives and their food for poisons in the coming days. 

“Quiet, Lachta.” Ikuake said. The thickness in her voice did not express anger: in fact, the diminutive smile on her face evinced an altogether different emotion. “Our questions can wait for tomorrow. For now, let them be.”

She felt distantly thankful for the duchesses’ words: Baru knew children were important to secure the rebellion, for her dynasty and legitimacy. She knew how much power children could bring; hell, her ability to pop out children brought her a certain amount of power on its own (the dying loyalty of Unuxekome and two thousand Stakhi fighters, to name the least). Still, it was exhausting to be constantly spoken about like a baby machine when she had no interest, no desire to have children. Even her moment of triumph-- the success of the battle and the public declaration of her love-- was nearly negated by concerns of her womb, of her infant kingdom (and it’s distinct lack of infants).

She’d made perhaps half a dozen promises for her own ownership to secure powers and advantages. Perhaps this was the unique power of the woman that mother Pinion would occasionally allude to with a smirk on her face when one of Baru’s fathers would do something they didn’t want to because she asked. 

That place between her legs meant more to the men around her than anything else she had done, it felt, and she had done a great many things for them. She had given them their victory to a rebellion. Despite all her orders and clever tactics that had led to this moment, they still saw Baru for her womb. In the heat of campaign, while she had many more important things to think about than courting, the dukes that surrounded her vied for her hand, for the promise of her body and embrace. She felt a distinct sense of satisfaction at this final denial. 

_I was never yours. You will never have all of me._

The confusion on Dziransi’s face was nearly a gift enough. Perhaps tribadism did not exist in his land, and this sight was truly bizarre to him. Regardless, Baru earmarked him in her mind as a potential threat-- he might see this choice as a betrayal, might have seen her acceptance of his people’s help as a promise to wed their Necessary King. He might not be confused about Hu’s position so much as Baru turning her back to his people.

Pinjigata led the confused man away gently with a hearty chuckle and a wink tossed over his shoulder-- for her or Hu, Baru couldn’t precisely tell. One silhouette whispered to another, and Ihuake laughed delightedly.

The shapes blurred slowly as they grew more distant, the rising darkness obscuring detail. The air smelt of salt and the waves crashed, the sensations comforting. If Baru closed her eyes, she could probably pretend that she was home, and a wave of sadness crashed over her suddenly: if she was able, she would have cried. If not now, perhaps in the early hours of dawn, just before the light seeped detail back into the world around her, a world so completely different from everything she had known and expected as a child.

“ _Imuira.”_ Hu whispered, breath tantalizingly warm on Baru’s ear. Baru suppressed a shiver-- not from the cold, but a shiver all together different than any she could remember experiencing before. “ _Kuye lam.”_ Hu’s voice was heavy, filled with unexpected emotion. Unexpected only because Baru only knew two of her voices: teasing and angry. The fact that Baru elicited such emotion in noble Hu was jarring.

Baru turned slowly, biting on the inside of her cheek in an attempt to avoid looking as anxious as she felt. She ached for connection, finally, at last. After so many years of solitude, she wanted this so badly it hurt. She desperately wanted to maintain her composure, didn’t want to be overeager even though she was practically trembling with anticipation. The look in Hu’s eyes told Baru she was doing a poor job at the concealment. 

With anxious hands, Baru touched Hu’s broad shoulders, allowing herself to marvel in the strength inherent in the woman before her, allowing herself to fantasize for just a moment what it would feel like to be held. 

She drifted slowly up to lightly touch her cheekbones-- those glorious cheekbones. She wanted to kiss them, to trace them with her fingers lightly in the early hours of coming mornings, to see their outline in rosy sunsets and sunrises. 

Her hands were trembling, her heart in her throat. After more than a decade, she had believed she would never see a woman this way, have a woman at her fingertips, be with another woman the way she wanted to. She remembered the threat that loomed over cousin Lao of just the barest rumor of the act she was very probably about to commit. She remembered sitting in the unnaturally clean classrooms of her youth, reciting tenets of Hygiene, diagrams of warning-- _this is what we will do to you._ She shivered, thinking about that pain between her legs. 

After being so totally conditioned, this almost felt wrong. 

Almost.

Hu’s eyes seemed softer than ever before, as if understanding. Baru thought about what Oathsfire could have said at the rejection. Hu herself had faced great prejudice and hatred over this, Baru realized. The other dukes and duchesses sneered at her, griping about _preferences,_ and she felt understanding swell in her. The mask had doubtlessly made similar threats; threats that were painfully present and looming because of Xate Yawa and her ‘work’. 

The way the previous Accountant had perished. 

Hu smelt good: Baru could smell the anise and smyrnium on her breath. She shifted her tongue in her mouth. Baru inhaled the scent and couldn’t help but wonder if Hu had simply wanted the taste of ash and blood out of her mouth or if some part of her heart had anticipated this, and chewed the spices for Baru. _I had dared to hope._

_Fuck it. Today, I am me. At last, I will not deny who I am._

She swallowed past a suddenly formed lump in her throat as she looked longingly into Hu’s newly soft eyes. “Forgive me.” Baru whispered, the hoarseness of her voice loud in her ears. She fought a blush off at the implications of that tone, the stirring feeling in her gut. _Or was that her gut...._ “I’ve never done this before.”

Hu chuckled warmly. “Such an ascetic.” 

“Not by choice, I think.” Baru replied honestly, remembering the fear that jolted through her at every stray thought in school and on the ships.

Gently, she raised her hand to Baru’s face, taking her turn (at last) to trace her cheekbone and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear in one fluid motion. “Fear not.” Her lips followed, brushing Baru’s cheek lightly. Baru felt heat rise to her cheeks, her face flushing with a new timidness. “I am very practiced.” Hu’s voice was like liquid honey. 

“So many conquests.” Baru teased, trying to hide the desire that raged through her at even this lightest touch. She opened her mouth to say something else, but Hu’s lips and tongue waylaid hers passionately.

Fireworks crackled behind her eyelids as she leaned into Hu and the kiss, trying to follow her lead, simply praying at this point that she was doing something right. Baru predicted that that would be her main thought throughout the night. _That_ thought made her feel giddy. 

She reasoned she couldn’t be doing anything too wrong: if she had, Hu would probably have stepped away by now, laughing. Instead, they parted for breath, and Hu let out a low, throaty laugh that sounded like music to Baru’s ears.

“None as sweet as you.” Hu whispered huskily before nipping at Baru’s ear. Confused, brain foggy, Baru stood racking her brain, trying to understand. Her mouth dropped into an ‘o’ of understanding, nearly blushing again at the prospect of being Hu’s conquest, and Hu laughed heartily before dashing another kiss on the ridge of Baru’s nose before stepping away.

Baru felt muddled in all her feelings, and found (to her great embarrassment) a pathetic sound escaping her lips as Hu pulled away. She laughed again, raising Baru’s hand to her lips. “We can do this here if you really want to, although I doubt you would enjoy the crowd we would certainly draw.”

“ _Oh.”_ Baru gasped, eyes widening. She jolted into movement when Hu raised an eyebrow teasingly, tugging on her hand. 

Baru followed close behind as Hu darted through camp, between randomly placed tents and fires and over abandoned rucksacks and armour. Camp was pulsating with activity, the fighters’ celebrations raucous as they laughed and sang over meat and mead.

Victory was wondrous for them all.

When they reached her tent, Hu lifted the tent flap and signaled her return to one of her trusted guards with a toss of her head, not pausing in her endeavor to spare a word.

Hu’s lips were on Baru’s again before the tent flap reached the ground, and she dimly recognized the fabric-shuffling of the guard looping its ties. They would not be disturbed. Not by anyone friendly, at least.

Hu pulled away gently, a wry smirked on her face as they both gasped for air and her strong, yet nimble, fingers began to tug at Baru’s clothes.

Baru had seen women naked before, obviously. But not for many years-- now that she was deliberately thinking about it, the last women she’d remembered seeing naked had been on Aminata’s ship. And Hu’s undoubtedly breathtaking form was looming right in front of her, moments away from a reveal. Not to mention that hers was, as well. 

She felt a sudden rush of shyness, a feeling nearly alien to her. As a child on Taranoke, nakedness hadn’t been wrong: rather, it had simply been. No shame was attached to the body (and certainly not to the body's wants). But shame had been the first thing that school had endeavored to teach her, right and wrong set firmly in the lines of her clothes and enforced in the thoughts of her mind. 

In all her time on Aurdwynn, Baru had found herself strictly enforcing these rules to herself with barely a second thought: her feelings and inclinations were seen as the darkest of sins to the Masquerade, and, if she was not cautious, would get her killed. To allow these desires any clemency would be to open a proverbial soft-spot in her armor, in which the tiniest chink would be her downfall. It was not possible.

It _was_ possible: Hu’s gentle nip at the soft flesh of her neck reminded her sharply as her tunic fell from her shoulders. Baru struggled with what exactly to do with her hands as Hu’s lips laid a gentle trail of kisses from her jaw to the place between her breasts, settling finally to lay them on Hu’s hips, teasing at the hem of her own tunic.

Hu’s hands mirrored Baru’s, angled in the opposite direction, thumbs tracing her hip bones, frustratingly halted by the twist of belt. Baru’s hips moved with a mind of their own, an intention consciously foreign to her, and Hu laughed before she disengaged suddenly, her own shirt tumbling away in a blink of Baru’s eyes.

Her eyes widened in wonder as Hu’s belt, shoes, and pants disappeared just as suddenly, fully revealing all of her sleek, well-muscled beauty. Baru could barely control her excitement, eyes raking over Hu, drinking in the sight before she brought her lips back into fierce contest with Baru’s once again, hands tugging at her belt.

The clasp disengaged with a gasp from both its leather and it’s wearer.

☙ 

Warmth. 

It surrounded her, pressing in on all sides, soothing her. The tent. The rising sun and it’s herald of songbirds. The furs.

Tain Hu.

Her heart.

Baru forced herself not to think too hard. About anything. This moment was, in itself, sacred. At least to her. To them, she hoped.

Hu murmured sleepily, dancing on the edge of wakefulness, her head tucked safely beneath Baru’s chin. If she’d had the presence of mind, Baru would have been surprised that Hu was nuzzling against her and not the other way around.

They fit together so well.

“Mmmm.” Hu murmured, looking up at Baru between eyelids squinting against the raising sunlight. “Hello, _your Excellence.”_ Her eyes slid shut again as she nuzzled back into the crook of Baru’s neck, contented by her position. 

Baru couldn’t help but blush at the use, and implications of, that title right now. _Excellent_ was about right.

Baru couldn’t feel her arm anymore, but she also couldn’t care about that anymore. She inhaled the earthy and wonderful scent of Hu, herself content to lie intertwined for some time longer.

She knew she had a lot of business to attend to-- the next moves for the rebellion, long term plans: how to beget heirs and legitimize her rule. Their rule. 

Where, exactly, to go from here. How to get from this moment to the next. How to move without shattering this moment into a million little pieces, fragmentations of herself. 

Baru let her head fall back against the roll of fur that Hu passed off as a pillow, let herself live in this moment, eyes fluttering shut. Her finger traced a scar that sectioned Hu’s ribs idly, marveling in the sheer power of this woman, the strength that lay not-so-disguised, just below her skin. Axe-carrying, armor-bearing, silver-tongued, sharp-witted. 

There was so much to Tain Hu, so much more to discover than was immediately evident, in this moment. An inner sky, constellations barely hinted at, waiting, begging, to be mapped. Her beauty was astronomical, undefinable: the beauty of a woman, a fighter, a lord. Beauty of a nation alone. Beauty of an entire world, Baru’s entire world.

So much to know. So much to learn. So much to love. 

But for now?

Bliss.

**Author's Note:**

> Come party on my writing Tumblr: Queer Canary Writes (or come hit up my personal blog Saraa-Lancee)


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